"Buck Skin Sam" (1875)
(Song of the Texan Ranger)
by C. A. White

1.
Dashing o'er the prairie,
Free from toil and care,
Scouting through the chaparals,
Camping here and there,
Mounted on mustangs as fleet
as ever commanche did ride,
Rifle always ready,
And Revolver by our side,

REFRAIN
Then mount my boys and away,
The trail is broad and clear,
And when you see the Reds,
Just at them with a cheer,
The alarm we have not forgot,
And Texans never will,
And the Greasers they shall hear,
It mingled with our yell,
And the Greasers they shall hear,
It mingled with our yell,
Our yell, our yell, our yell,

2.
Free and feerless over,
Plain and wood we roam,
Where night overtakes us,
There we make our home,
By the streamlets smooth green bank,
Or on the canyons dry bed
From the Bravos Chaparals
Away for to the Reds,

(REFRAIN)

3.
Now by reds we're surrounded,
War cry's fill the air,
Arrows darting round us,
Fiends in paint and hair,
Lances glistning in the sun,
The Texans yell resounds,
Warriors give their dying whoop,
The Mustang his last bound,

REFRAIN
And on the Mexican border,
We dash Cordinas band,
And drive the thieving Greasers,
Into the Rio Grande,
They are gasping now in the water,
And dying on the shore,
While remember the alamo,
Is heard 'bove battles roar,
While remember the alamo,
Is heard 'bove battles roar,
The roar, the roar, the roar.